The Saddest Man in the Room

Sink & Float

The child flung against the cliffs, finally seeking refuge between cracks in the mountain. The scene shifts to fallen room wreaking of cigarettes and a sudden winter cold. He sits solemn on a chair with his heart in his mouth thoughts ablaze and a soul too weak.

The wind gushes in and on it more sorrows ride, where the man ushers them in and calls for bread and wine. There lurks a heavy fall yet he burns an orange tree. He seeks what cannot be his and weeps to be free.

Not bounded by ropes or by cries of passion, the man wonders of distant hopes and asks if he will smile to the stars or glee to bees?  The showers of spring and a brave new winter to hunt him down slay and slew.

A fondness to his skin and muddled solemn heart, he years for compassion yet…

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How to make a Klecksograph ~ Calling all Artists!

InkBlood

Welcome to the realm of Apophenia.

Steps to make your own Klecksograph:-

With a dropper or a piece of cotton, gently now, drop drops of ink on to a piece of paper and fold it in half before it becomes dry. When this page is unfolded, you will find a mirror reflection in the halves.

Here’s how:-

Let the ink smear, let the ink dry, and look deep into it unflinchingly. What do you see?

The inkblots will resemble something from your life because of Apophenia; the human tendency to see patterns in nature, where there may be none.

Klecksography is the art of making images by this method, from inkblots.

Make your own Klecksographs and send them to us at – inkblood.info@gmail.com – and we will upload them to the album titled Coagulation Klecksography 2014!

Take a look here – http://tinyurl.com/majfxes  

In the words of Peter Brugger…

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InkBlood Coagulation 2014

InkBlood

InkBlood ~ Writing from the vein, presents Coagulation 2014

InkBlood Coagulation 2014 is a month long celebration of Poetry and Art, featuring a one of a kind Poetry Contest!

For the next thirty (30) days we will be indulging in Klecksography and Poetry together, learning to appreciate the beautiful relationship shared between these two exquisite forms of art.

Must see!

How to make a Klecksograph ~ http://tinyurl.com/ksb3ok2

Submitting your poem ~ http://tinyurl.com/n3sjc3k

The point of this event is to write Poems inspired by the Klecksographs submitted by other artists, and to submit your own Klecksographs, which will serve as inspiration for other poets!

At the end of thirty days we will declare three (3) winners –

Two winners will each win a specially designed, beautiful Collector’s Edition in-house published book of all the Klecksographs and Poems submitted to
InkBlood Coagulation 2014 – [16th January to 16th February 2014]

One…

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The Mystic Skies

The Mystic Skies.

3 Timeless Movie Dance Scenes That You Must Try

Hate, My Beloved One

There’s a lot of love that goes into hate.

To nurse it at our breast.

To nurture it like it were our own blood and bones.

 

We let it burgeon.

We let it rise high.

 

And one day we’re faced with this monster we’ve birthed.

There’s a sharp knife through our back.

Piercing right through our chest.

Because that’s all hate has ever known to do.

Betray.

I’m everything …

I’m everything I told myself I am not.

Slave.

Slave..

Smack

Sensuous and wicked!

~ I could drink a case of you darling
Still I’d be on my feet
I’d still be on my feet ~

UrbanSanyaasi

 

Kiss me if you like the flavor of ash trays and bad decision

Kiss me if you love the scent of sour memories and rotten milk,

Kiss me if you love the wrong clove of garlic and the bad book,

Kiss me if you like the brine and the sting of the new inks

 

Kiss me if you love the grey chalky aftertaste of a moral act,

Kiss me if you love the smooth bland texture of a new bed,

Kiss me if you love the scented essence of the fake orgasm,

Kiss me if you love the damp room thats filled with moths and desires

 

Kiss me if you love the bad poetry and the worse sentences,

Kiss me if you love bad grammar and wrong choices,

Kiss me deep and kiss me hard 

And then swallow my soul, swirl it before you gulp,

Like you’re…

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I Am Jane Doe

I was fourteen years old the night my friend G took me to my first kegger. We told my mom we were going to “a little get together.” I remember almost nothing about the evening—flashes, mostly. I remember absolutely nothing about being raped that night.

Read the full blog here: I Am Jane Doe.

It’s a must read.